Honeymoon
by Literallyametaphor
Summary: A little snippet of what I imagine Quint and Maris' honeymoon might've been like...


Maris awoke to the sounds of gentle breathing in her ear.

She rolled over, and found herself nose to nose with Quint, one of his arms draped carelessly across her- the other awkwardly twisted beneath him.

She propped herself up on her elbow, a smile creeping across her face.

He looked so peaceful; content- she hadn't seen him look so happy in almost a year.

Even before that fateful day at the Knight's Academy, she knew he hadn't been sleeping well- as much as he'd denied it. She'd seen the pallor in his cheeks, the dark circles under his eyes...

He'd put everything he had into preparation for that voyage, and then...

It didn't matter now. They were here, together.

She reached out, gently tracing his features with her thumb. Maris often thought that she could have lived a thousand years away from him without forgetting a single detail of his face: A map of it was branded into her memory, and not even time could touch it.

Suddenly, Quint stirred, his deep blue eyes flickering and searching through the gloomy half-light.

"Maris?"

"Yes?"

"What are you doing?"

"... Nothing, Quint. Go back to sleep!"

He raised an eyebrow, but she could already see tiredness dragging him back. She lay down beside him again, nestling closer and lacing her fingers through his.

"Quint?"

"Mhmm?"

"Where are we going tomorrow?"

"I don't know. Anywhere we feel like. Anywhere at all."

"That's not much of a plan."

"We don't need a plan."

Maris laughed. "That's unusually reckless of you."

"Is it?" He yawned, and moved his head so it was level with Maris'. "Well, I'm trying a new approach..."

It occurred to her that he might be lying- trying to surprise her-but she said no more, simply enjoying the warmth his body provided.

Her last thought before she drifted off to sleep was of Sky sailing. _Tomorrow_, _he will be back where he belongs..._

The little Skybarge chugged slowly across the Sky above the Deepwoods, and Maris watched Quint throw unholy amounts of cold sand on the rubble cage with amusement. Dependable though she was, the little ship- leant to them by courtesy of Duggin- was no _Stormchaser. _She could tell that he was itching to return to his beautiful galleon ship and newly assembled crew- but he had promised her this, and Quint always kept his promises. One week, with just the two of them.

Two people could not manage a Skyship, and so- somewhat begrudgingly, Quint had hired the _Mirejumper, _and now...

Well, now, they were going "anywhere"- and Maris was glad.

It was Quint who had been so desperate to get married in the first place. Maris didn't see much value in the institution- but Quint liked the traditionalism; the ceremony, the "honour" of it all.

Maris shook her head, and wandered back into the cabin, where she was preparing a dinner of cooked snowbird for the both of them. If she was honest about it, she didn't really mind where they went- travelling had never been the point of this particular adventure...

She picked up a knife, and began chopping- but before she'd even gotten through a single carrot, Quint was behind her, wrapping his arms loosely around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder

"I thought you were meant to be flying the ship?" she teased, not looking back at him.

"Nothing needs to be done at the moment. I don't like the flight levers on this thing- they're too stiff. They make me nervous..."

"Nervous enough to abandon them all together?"

He grinned at her. "I just thought maybe you could do with some help?"

Maris pursed her lips. She had learnt from years of experience that allowing Quint anywhere _near_ what she was doing- be it cooking, painting or anything else for that matter- could have _disastrous_ consequences. But she was enjoying his good mood too much to let him be anywhere else.

"Fine. Chop the carrots for me, and I'll take care of the snowbird."

Quint jumped happily to his task, and Maris watched him out of the corner of her eye. He was painstakingly precise- but maddeningly slow, and she could not help but circle past a few times, giving him advice.

"They don't have to be _exactly_ the same size, Quint..."

"If you peel it _before_ you cut it, it won't take so long..."

"Are you sure you don't want me to help...?"

Every time, he would nod and smile at her, wide eyed, and she would feel all her irritation melting away.

"If I go back outside and find that we've drifted out over the Edge, I'm going to hold you entirely responsible." She warned him with mock severity, turning back to her Snowbird.

"Don't worry about that! This barge would never withstand the sort of winds you get in the Edgelands. If we were sailing over them, we'd know about it."

As he spoke, he took one of the pieces of carrot that had taken him so long to chop, and bit down on it.

"Quint!" Maris scolded, hitting his hand away as it snuck back for another piece. "Don't eat them!"

He laughed, but dropped the piece he was holding back onto the counter.

Maris stepped forwards, took hold of both his hands, and kissed him. Quint seemed surprised for a moment- he always did- but then he was kissing her back, reaching up and tucking a lose strand of hair behind her ear.

"Maris Verginix." He whispered.

"Quintinius Pallitax." She retorted, and he started kissing her again.

With a sudden ominous crash, the ship jolted and listed heavily to one side. The two of them were sent flying across the tiny cabin, colliding with the shelves on the other side. The boat creaked horrendously, and for a moment Maris wondered whether they really had gone over the Edge. Then, just as quickly as it had tipped, the boat righted itself, and they both fell to the floor in a heap.

"Flight levers." Quint groaned, sitting up and rubbing his head. "The neuben hull weight must be too high..."

"Of course..." Maris pushed him. "Go and fix it! Quickly!"

"Alright, I'm going..."

Gingerly, she climbed to her feet. It didn't seem like anything was broken...

She sighed, and limped back over to her cooking. Quint's carrots were now scattered all over the kitchen, but luckily her bird was still precariously balanced on the edge of the counter.

She glanced out of the door, and saw Quint attending to the rubble cage and hanging weights again.

She would never tell him, but she was sure that having him in the kitchen for even a few minutes was worth any bruises she might have obtained.

Later, as the sun set over the Deepwoods, Quint anchored the tiny ship, and they sat down for dinner on the deck.

Maris peered out over the side, trying to take in the vast size of what was beneath them. The huge, multicoloured carpet went on for as far as the eye could see- and as she sat there, she almost felt as if the entire universe could have fitted beneath the stretch of canopy she could see. Yet she knew that this was only one tiny fraction of the endless Deepwoods. The idea of its size was beyond comprehension- but that didn't stop her from trying to imagine it.

"How many people do you think there are in the Deepwoods?" She asked Quint.

He shrugged. "Thousands. Hundreds of thousands. Millions... It's impossible to know, really."

"It's almost too many to think about." She said. "Every different species and tribe... And all of them so far apart! It must take weeks to walk from one village to another."

"Yes... That's the beauty of a skyship, I suppose. Easier to go places, easier to find things... As long as you're looking from the sky, you can map your way back to anywhere..."

They both looked out over the sea of trees again.

"Do we have to go back to Undertown?" Maris asked, leaning against Quint and entangling her legs with his. "Can't we just stay here? Sailing the Deepwoods skies forever..."

Quint didn't say anything but stroked her hair and stared straight ahead.

"We could catch Snowbird for meat, and go down to the Deepwoods to forage for food. We could visit members of every tribe in the Deepwoods- I bet we could! We'd know more in our lifetimes than all the academics in Sanctaphrax together..."

She felt him stiffen at the mention of the floating city. "You'd get bored of me." He joked, trying to change the course of the conversation.

Maris shook her head defiantly. "Never. You _know_ I wouldn't."

"I don't know that!"

She turned around, looking him directly in the eyes. "You do now. If I thought there was even a _chance_ you'd bore me, I wouldn't have married you."

Quint stared right back at her, and she could see that old light she had missed so much sparkling in the depths of his stormy eyes. "What about... if I lost my tongue, and could never speak again? Surely you'd get tired of silence _eventually_?"

"No. I find your face interesting. And, I'd know that you were still the same, even if you couldn't speak. Face it, Quint; I'll be here for as long as you want me around."

"In which case, you're going to be around for a very long time..."

And then, they were kissing again, wrapped up in each other on the deck of the tiny boat, bobbing above the enormity of the Deepwoods. Around them, the sky dimmed from red to purple, to black, until the night swallowed them whole, and they were surrounded by the faint cries of animals rising from beneath the canopy. Darkness in the Deepwoods was a dangerous thing- but they couldn't find it in themselves to even notice. They were safe, away in their own world.

Neither of them had ever been happier.


End file.
